


The Marauders As The Legendary Four

by xyzz4730



Series: The Legend of The Marauders [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Friendship, Hogwarts, Hogwarts First Year, Marauders, Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24416377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xyzz4730/pseuds/xyzz4730
Summary: Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin have their own adventures and their own stories to tell.  Welcome these four boys to their new life. This is The Marauders Era at Hogwarts.
Series: The Legend of The Marauders [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763233
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Legendary Four

**All rights remain.**

Remus John Lupin woke with a start, sweat beading his forehead. His sleep shirt stuck uncomfortably to his back, which he had to unstick from the sheets. He stretched soundly, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the bright light. His room, which admittedly was messy, was filled to the brim with books. Remus was never one to have many friends if any at all; the young boy from the neighboring home did not count because his mother had forced the young boy to spend the afternoon with Remus when they were eight or nine.

_The young boy ended up wailing and racing out of the house as Remus sat in his room with a book in his lap. He looked casual and completely innocent as his mother fiercely demanded to know what had gone wrong. Remus insisted they were simply playing a game of cards and the boy had lost because Remus just knew the boy had cheated. Remus's mother, Hope Lupin, scowled._

_"That's not how we handle our differences!" she scolded, pointing a finger at Remus, who now had his head ducked in shame. Hope put her arms crossly on her hips, eyebrows furrowed. "I don't think that boy Alfred will ever want to come back!"_

Remus muttered something like an apology, but it was most certainly not the last time the young Lupin boy had heard about it. There was another thing, however, that kept him rather isolated and unlike many other children in his home area. Firstly, he was a wizard. He came from a family full of magic—or rather half of it. His father was a wizard and _he_ had introduced Remus's mother to the Wizarding World.

Remus had run into another problem that made him unique amongst his peers; he was a werewolf. His ailment prevented witches and wizards of all ages to want to associate with him for werewolves, in the minds of wizarding society, were dark creatures. It happened when he was a boy, but it did not stop him from having dreams of his own. Hope and Lyall had done everything they could think of to cure their son of his lycanthropy, but time was running short.

Remus went downstairs, praying with every step he took there would be a letter on his kitchen table just waiting for him to open. His parents would be there smiling at him as he received his acceptance letter to Hogwarts with all the details of his admission included inside. However, he came down, rounded the corner, and spotted no one in the kitchen—not his mother, nor his father, and he certainly could not find any envelope addressed to him.

Remus's stomach lurched with disappointment but he forced to keep himself calm as he wandered throughout the house, looking for his mother or father. He nearly stumbled right into his mother upon entering the living room.

"Did...did you get any mail?" Remus asked, eyes casting towards the windows in hopes of spotting something in the distance. "I left a bowl of owl treats just in case. Did you check?"

"Remus," Lyall said and pushed his graying hair from his brown eyes. "Why don't we make breakfast? The owl post never comes this early, especially from Hogwarts. Post took ages when I went there!"

Remus, however, was not convinced, and was not as easily distracted.

"But you said you got your letter the morning you turned 11," the boy said stubbornly, looking at his father with an expression of determination. "It came right away for you!"

Lyall quickly looked over at Hope, who could not offer any sort of comfort, for she was not a witch and did not grow up attending Hogwarts like Remus's father. She merely lifted an eyebrow.

"I won't go to Hogwarts?" Remus asked sadly, looking at his mother and father with tired eyes.

"I don't know," Lyall said hopelessly as he looked at Remus's mother with a helpless shrug of his shoulders. "It's a decision that remains with the Headmaster, Remus."

"Well, that's not very fair!" Remus wailed, tears welling up in his eyes as he wrung his hands uselessly. "I can't help it! I...what was the point of me surviving if I can't even be like a wizard?"

Hope and Lyall exchanged looks of despair because they, themselves, could not answer for him. They had known from the moment the first Healer at St. Mungos told him his life would be harder than the trauma he endured that night that it would be difficult to integrate him into a normal, civilian life.

"The world would be so unhappy without you," Hope said, geting down on one stiff knee and putting a hand to her son's face, cradling him close.

"It's not true, Mum," Remus said dejectedly. "No one knows who I am. It wouldn't matter if I were gone."

"It would matter to me," Hope said softly and drew him in for the warmest hug he ever received.

Remus merely fell silent, but was visibly unhappy. However, the moment was short-lived for there seemed to be a rather furious knocking on the door. Lyall, startled, grabbed his wand off the small table in their living room and walked slowly to the door.

"Who is it?" Hope asked, craning her neck to catch a glimpse through the window.

"It's Dumbledore!" Lyall shouted even if the house was not nearly enough to warrant the volume he had used. "He's—what's he doing here I wonder..."

Remus shrunk into his mother, who had wrapped her arms around him protectively. She guided him to the soft couch and seated him there while she went to greet this newcomer at the door.

"Professor," Lyall said, shocked. "It's a pleasure to see you."

"I don't know if you remember me," Hope said from Lyall's left, giving him a small nod of respect. "But—"

"I know very well who you are," Albus Dumbledore said with a light chuckle, eyes gleaming as he smiled warmly. "I may be old, but my memory still serves me well enough, Mrs. Lupin."

"Of course," Hope said quickly, trying to recover from her slip. "I wouldn't have suggested otherwise—"

"Hope," Albus Dumbledore said with a raise of his hand. The woman fell silent and looked apologetic, but the old man waved a hand. "I wanted to see your son; would he be interested in speaking to me?"

Hope and Lyall both looked at Dumbledore with baited breath, knowing what the old man had come for. Hope gave him an awkward gesture as if to tell him she was at a loss of what to do.

"It will pleasant, I promise," Professor Dumbledore said merrily and looked at Lyall's wand, which was still gripped tightly in his hand. "It is good to see you are still using the same wand you were at Hogwarts. I do wish to speak to your youngest about Hogwarts—ah, yes."

Remus finally emerged from the living room and into sight, eyes reddened. However, they hardened the moment they landed on the stranger. He squared his shoulders, eyes flashing almost as if there were specks of gold in those blue orbs.

"Mr. Lupin," Professor Dumbledore said mildly, unfazed by the boy's strange appearance. He merely pulled out his wand and gave it a silent wave; moments later, two cups of tea had come levitating towards them. "May we have a moment?"

"For what, sir?" Remus asked though his shaking voice gave away his brave stance.

"Well, your arrangements for school," Professor Dumbledore said as if it were the most obvious answer; he either ignored or did not notice the expression of the house's occupants, for he plundered right on. "I have made provisions for you in the case you accept—"

"Accept?" Remus echoed, gears turning in his head but billowing out steam instead. "I don't—I thought—I didn't _get_ a letter, sir."

Professor Dumbledore must have scolded himself inwardly for he shook his head gravely.

"Perhaps my memory does fail me once in a while," he murmured and plunged a hand into the folds of his dark blue robes. From the depths of his odd garb, he pulled out a single envelope with Remus's name scrawled neatly in green on the front. "For you."

Remus looked at the letter with trembling hands and tilted his head to the side. He managed to open the flap and peer inside, pulling out the letter with apprehension. Was he going to read his own rejection letter? Or was this man going to verbally reject him? Or perhaps both?

**_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_ **

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Lupin,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

Remus barely read the rest of the letter for he was caught on the words "accepted". His eyes must have played tricks on him or this was some practical but cruel joke. However, there was a second page attached to the letter. He pulled it out and read out loud.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY**

**UNIFORM**

First-year students will require:

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

**COURSE BOOKS**

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

 _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk

 _A History of Magic_ _by Bathilda Bagshot_ _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

 _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

 _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble

**OTHER EQUIPMENT**

1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope 1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,  
Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Remus's eyes scanned the parchment in his hands three of four times before he turned to Professor Dumbledore with his eyes narrowed supsiciously.

"You're the Headmaster of Hogwarts?" he asked carefully, trying not to let his hopes soar, but his fingers felt like they were tingling with excitement and the possibility of the life he wanted so desperately. "You're...letting me in?"

"I cannot see why that would be a problem," Professor Dumbledore replied pleasantly.

Remus's heart sank; perhaps the Headmaster did not know of his affliction and once he would break the news, the wizard would turn and run just like many others have. He opened his mouth, but the Headmaster put up a hand to stop him.

"We will, of course, make arrangements for you," he said lightly and smiled when Remus blanched visibly. "I know of your lycanthropy, Mr. Lupin, and while the situation is most unfortunate, do not let it hinder your abilities."

Lyall looked at Hope, who was looking at Remus with a sort of furious pride. It was almost as if she was itching to tell this man just how much Remus had overcome since the infamous day.

"Or your desires," the Headmaster continued and looked solely at Remus. "Will you accept this letter, Mr. Lupin? If so, I will go forth with our said arrangements, which have been carefully thought out and considered by concerning staff."

"They know?" Remus asked, mouth dry. "What...what did they say?"

"I can assure you my staff is more than willing to help," Headmaster Dumbledore said with a small nod. "Will you accept?"

Remus could barely hear himself speak.

" _Of course_!"

**.oOo.**

James Fleamont Potter moped about his family's large manor, going from window to window in hopes of intercepting an expecting owl. He paced back and forth between three rooms, growing frantic as time passed.

"Why isn't it here yet?" he grumbled to himself, growing agitated and tired. He refused to eat before he got his acceptance letter; the food would not have settled until he knew he was accepted.

"James," his elderly mother said strictly, striding into the corridor with an unhappy frown. "You were meant to help me rid my garden of gnomes this morning, but you never showed up!"

"Sorry, Mother," James said and waved a wild hand at the window. "But I'm just waiting for my letter, which doesn't seem to want to come anytime soon! Do you think my owl got blown off course or something? It's ridiculous!"

"Calm yourself," Mrs. Potter tutted at once and stowed her wand away in the pockets of her robes. "If you won't help with the gardening, why don't you make yourself useful and help the kneazles clean our barn."

"Isn't that what we have the kneazles for though?" James asked, wrinkling his nose at the idea of spending his morning in a stuffy, dusty barn with a herd of cats all chasing oversized rats.

"James," his mother said in a warning tone.

"Bugger," James muttered but was silenced with a harsh glare.

"Watch your tongue," Mrs. Potter chided and looked at her son sternly. "I expect you to either be in the garden or the barn, James. You will not waste your day staring out a window!"

James had no choice but to comply lest to avoid his mother's wrath. He sighed and begrudingly shuffled away from the windows and made his way outside. What his mother called a "storm of gnomes" happened to be three who refused to go anywhere else. With the hatchet his mother had given him, he made quick work of the gnomes and dragged himself to the barn, where he could hear the yowling and spitting of angry kneazles.

He pushed open the door and ducked when something rather large came straight for his head. He yelped awkwardly, looking up at the barn's wooden beams and huffed angrily as a kneazle swiped its claws angrily at him.

"It's not like I want to be here," James grumbled and gave his eyes some time to adjust to the new level of light filtering through the barn's windows. His eyes watered and his nose ran from the dust, but nothing was as bad as the smell. He breathed through his shirt's fabric to avoid the stench of rotting rat corpses.

He took a step forward, careful not to disturb any of the felines, but scurried backward when one bushed out its tail and sank its claws deep within his leg. James stifled a shout of surprise and tried to dislodge the animal with a great shake of his leg, but it only seemed to make the kneazle hang on tighter. James could feel the thin pool of blood beneath his pants and went for a dance. Unfortunately, the creature went along for the ride.

James howled and hopped around, upsetting the tranquility of the barn. However, the kneazles soon scattered when a dark shadow cast itself from above. James finally ceased his strange hobble and winced in pain, rubbing the sore spot ruefully. He looked up, pushing his sweaty bangs from his forehead, and spotted a handsome, owl perched on one of the wooden beams.

"Well come down here!" James called out to the winged bird. "I can't reach there!"

He was sure it was his Hogwarts letter and James simply did not have the patience to sit and wait for the owl to finish preening its feathers. Without hesitation, he started climbing up one of the wooden posts and made his way over to the owl, panting heavily. He hoisted himself up the best he could and reached out for the letter, which was mere centimeters from his fingertips.

The owl seemed to have taken pity on the boy for it shuffled a little closer and stuck out its leg. James snatched the letter with a victorious shout before pointing to the hay-strewn ground below.

"Rats are free for the taking," he said to the owl, who hooted and swooped down.

James nearly ripped the envelope in half and the letters within it in his haste to open it. He did not even take the time to get back on the ground, he was that excited. With a thrumming heart, he unfolded the parchment and read to himself.

**_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_ **

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

James, with shaky hands and shallow breathing, managed to flip over the second peice of parchment. However, the sharp pain in his arms had him come to a stop and back to reality. He rushed back to the ground, landing rather clumsily, and read on.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY**

**UNIFORM**

First-year students will require:

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

**COURSE BOOKS**

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

 _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk

 _A History of Magic_ _by Bathilda Bagshot_ _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

 _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

 _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble

**OTHER EQUIPMENT**

1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope 1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,  
Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

James broke out into a smile and inhaled deeply as if the letter had taken a great load off his shoulders. He would be going to Hogwarts. It was, in his mind, a way to start a life he was imaginging from the day he learned about his magic.

**.oOo.**

"Sirius! Regulus!"

Sirius Orion Black groaned as he rolled off his bed and cracked open his door as if he could convince himself he was imagining his mother's barking orders from three flights below. Unfortunately, Regulus, his younger brother, had been roused by the summoning. Sirius looked over at his brother with a guarded expression before he raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going down?" he asked.

"She won't let up until we do," Regulus said earnestly and slowly opened the door.

Sirius grumbled under his breath and dragged his feet down the long corridor, down three flights of stairs, and into the kitchen where his mother waited impatiently. She held her hands to her hips and pointed to the letter attached to a tawny owl's leg. Sirius's heart jolted but just as he made a grab for his letter, his mother seized him by the wrist and held him fast and tight.

"Remember your place," she said in a warning tone, narrowing her eyes ominously.

Sirius, knowing exactly what his mother was referring to, merely pursed his lips. She gave him a scathing look before letting him go, claw-like fingers twitching as if they were eager to do more damage than leave a bruise. Sirius looked at front of the envelope, heart fluttering anxiously.

Out of the corner of his eye, Regulus watched with beady eyes. He stayed around the corner but his mouth opened and closed a few times as if he wanted to say something. Sirius's fingers moved to open the envelope, but it floated right out of his hands and levitated at his mother's right shoulder. She held a wand tight in her grasp as she curled her lip back.

"Salazar Slytherin has created the noblest house at Hogwarts, Sirius," she said as if she were almost trying to convince herself. "You know where you belong. Either you are accepted into Slytherin or you are not accepted at all."

"I'll be in Slytherin, Mum," Regulus said, perking up. He looked up at his mother, searching for her approval, but it did not come. "I already know it. By this time next year, I'll be getting my letter—"

"Sirius!" Walburga Black snapped, jolting Sirius from his thoughts.

"I'll be in my room," Sirius said obediently, clutching the letter close to his chest.

"Right you will be," Walburga said curtly and gave him a dismissive wave, turning her back to him with a stiff spine.

Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but he decided against it and silently retreated back up the three flights of stairs to the sanctuary he called his room. It was covered in green and silver though Sirius was sure he would not be placed in Slytherin—or so he hoped. The moment he began developing his own opinions, they began to differ from his family's. Unsurprisingly, it had caused quite the rift in the family relationship though Sirius could not remember his mother ever being nurturing.

His father, Orion Black, had quite the nasty temper but none in comparison to his mother. While Orion was quick to use his hands as punishment, Walburga did not hesitate to use magic as a form of consequence. Sirius and Regulus, both, had learned from experience the wrath of their parents, but Sirius seemed to be getting the brunt of the force. Family gatherings were nothing short of a nightmare; his elder cousins Narcissa and Bellatrix Black were unbearable, but their soft-hearted sister, Andromeda, was there to keep him company.

He clambered into his room, shutting the door behind him for good measure, and sat down on the foot of his bed. He worked his lip nervously, heart racing as he flipped the envelope over and began to tear at the flap. But, before he could proceed, there was a knock on his door. Sirius knew it was not his mother for she would have never had the decency to knock.

"Regulus?" Sirius asked as the door opened to reveal his younger brother. "What?"

"Did you hear what Mother said?" Regulus asked pointedly after a short pause.

"Yeah," Sirius said, unable to keep the contempt from his tone.

Regulus hummed and looked around the room, leaning against the door frame. He looked smug but Sirius could not figure out why; instead of pointing it out, Sirius merely sat in silence and curled the corners of the envelope.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius demanded, now growing impatient.

"It can't get much worse than it is now, can it?" Regulus asked before looking Sirius sharply in the eye. He did not give Sirius a chance to respond, however, for he walked out without another word.

Sirius rolled his eyes and averted his attention back to the letter in his hands, unable to keep the smile from forming on his face. With his lips turned upward, he ripped the envelope open and pulled out the two pieces of parchment with a bouncing knee.

**_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_ **

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

Sirius let out a shaky breath and forced himself to recompose. He looked at the letter and rubbed his hands over his face to make sure he was not hallucinating this exciting moment. He took a second glance before turning to the second page.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY**

**UNIFORM**

First-year students will require:

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

**COURSE BOOKS**

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

 _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk

 _A History of Magic_ _by Bathilda Bagshot_ _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

 _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

 _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble

**OTHER EQUIPMENT**

1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope 1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,  
Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

The eldest Black heir set the letters down and let himself relish the moment of pure elation. It was the mere thought of leaving this house and experiencing this world in his own way without his parents' influence. This was it; this was Sirius's ticket to freedom.

**.oOo.**

Peter Prius Pettigrew dug his fists into his back and stretched, wincing at the soreness. He rubbed his eyes clear from the dust, dirt, and other debris. His mother, close beside him, looked up from her sewing.

"Peter, dear?"

"I don't think it's coming, Mum," Peter said after a bit of a sigh. "The letter would have been here by now, don't you think?"

"We can't be certain, Peter, give it time," Mrs. Pettigrew said and gave her boy a quick kiss on the cheek. She looked at her wristwatch and jumped to her feet. "Your father should be home any moment!"

Peter bit his lip and looked at his hands; he loved his father something fierce, but his father's ability to reciprocate those feelings came up short. His father, although working far from home, never found any pleasure in returning to his family. Peter had watched his mother suffer for years yearning for Mr. Pettigrew's attention, but only collecting the crumbs of affection.

"Mum," Peter said, grabbing her by the elbow to stop her from walking away. "Have you ever thought about... _talking_ to Dad about...what you tell me sometimes? I don't think it would hurt him to hear it."

"Course not," Mrs. Pettigrew said and patted his hand lovingly. "We don't need any more tension. Do hurry with the scrubbing, Peter. He gets awfully short if the house is not cleaned by the time he gets home."

Peter sighed again and looked at the _Daily Prophet_ not far from where he was kneeling and washing vigorously. His mother had been looking through the employment section, evidently circling her favorite ones. Peter came from a family that was far from wealthy and his half-blood status did not give the Pettigrews much of a lift in either the Wizarding or Muggle world.

Peter had taken odd jobs here and there to help his parents; he would mow lawns, de-gnome gardens, and deliver all sorts of goods. With a foot in both worlds, it made it easy for Peter to find the occasional work, but it was never enough.

His family lived in a humble home on the outskirts of London though the neighborhood was far from childhood friendly. There were strangers on the corners muttering to themselves, looking dodgy, and they would stare at Peter (or any person passing by) as if they had been insulted.

There was a sharp tap on the window that made Peter jump in fright. Mrs. Pettigrew looked up and spotted a barn owl with its talons scratching at the wooden window frame from outside.

"Peter," Mrs. Pettgirew said, gesturing him over. "I believe this is for you."

Peter looked up and felt a funny jolt surge through his body as he saw a letter with green ink. Was it his acceptance letter to Hogwarts? He rushed over to the window, propped it open, and encouraged the owl inside.

The owl hooted and stuck out its leg, rustling its feathers importantly. Peter untied the string and released the owl with a few treats as a tip. It flew off, leaving Peter with an envelope that was addressed to him.

"Go on," Mrs. Pettigrew said with a nod, smiling. "Open it."

Peter did just that; he yanked out the contents of the envelope and scoured the words. His smile grew bigger and bigger the more he read and within the next moment, he was jumping up and down.

**_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_ **

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Pettigrew,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

"Mum! It's here! I got it! I got the letter!" Peter just about hollered despite the close distance between him and his mother. "I got accepted! I'm going to Hogwarts! Mum, I can't believe it, can you?"

Mrs. Pettigrew rushed over to her son and wrapped him up tightly in her arms, showering him in kisses

"Oh, Peter, you are going to have a wonderful time," she said and began to spout her emotions without much control over them. "Of course you'll have to study hard for your classes and practice as it doesn't come easy. You'll meet and make wonderful friends and—oh, we'll need supplies."

"Here," Peter said, handing her the second piece of parchment. "I think that's it."

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY**

**UNIFORM**

First-year students will require:

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

**COURSE BOOKS**

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

 _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk

 _A History of Magic_ _by Bathilda Bagshot_ _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

 _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

 _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble

**OTHER EQUIPMENT**

1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope 1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,  
Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Mrs. Pettigrew nodded briskly and gave her wand a brisk flick. A quill and ink bottle came zooming from across their small home and landed smoothly on the table. Peter took a step towards his mother, eager to see what she was doing, but knocked over the bucket of water.

"I'm sorry," Peter squeaked and immediately tried to fix the mess.

"Don't worry," Mrs. Pettigrew said and mulled over the letter, tapping her quill thoughtfully. "We'll go straight to Diagon Alley. I know the best places that offer the best deals—oh, Peter. I'm so very excited for you—"

"Where's all this water from?" came a loud, booming voice.

Peter jumped and immediately shrunk under his father's gaze.

"Why can't I trust you to do anything, boy?" Mr. Pettigrew asked irritably, grabbing Peter by the arm and yanking him towards the mop and rags. "Clean it up before someone gets hurt! Go on!"

Peter grabbed what he needed, but instead of feeling insecure or deflated, Peter felt invincible. He was going to Hogwarts and no one, not even his father, could stop him from going.

* * *

**Let me know what you think!**


	2. A Day in Diagon Alley

**All rights remain.**

James bounced eagerly from foot to foot, craning his neck to see where his mother had run off to. Now that James knew he was going to Hogwarts, the summer seemed to go on for ages. Fortunately, time was dwindling and it was finally the day they would go to Diagon Alley to get his things. His mind buzzed with all the stuff he wanted to get, but his mother had quickly squashed the idea of him getting a broomstick and smuggling it into Hogwarts.

_"This is your first year, James, you do not want to get in trouble!" Mrs. Potter said with a firm shake of her head. "No broomsticks!"_

_"But—"_

_"James, enough," Mrs. Potter said shortly, cutting him off and leaving no room for argument._

Now James was more than anticipating the day he would get to see Diagon Alley for himself. He had only been there one other time and it was so long ago, he hardly remembered any of it. James had gone to international Quidditch games, he had been forced to go to Wizarding galas, but nothing could surpass the feeling of excitement over Diagon Alley. It was, perhaps, because James knew he was going for himself this time.

James hopped over to the doorway where he could see his mother gathering her things and stuffing them all in her bag. It was quite a shock to see what could all fit in a small coin purse, but James knew his mother had used magic to help her.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Now I am," Mrs. Potter said and pointed to the pot of gray Floo powder, which she always left by the fireplace. "Now, remember, you must get off at a very specific gate—"

"I know which one!" James said hurriedly and raced over to the pot, grabbing an appropriate amount. He stepped into the fireplace, which roared to life.

The sight would have been alarming if one did not know what Floo was. James was engulfed in emerald flames but they were harmless, not even warm to the touch. The eleven year old boy waited for his mother's nod of approval, then threw down the powder at his feet.

"Diagon Alley!"

With a blaze of light and a crackling roar of a fire, James had disappeared. He could feel himself spinning but travelling by Floo was nothing new to him. He always remembered to tuck in his elbows, keep his eyes on a fixed point, and focus in his departure. The gate came by quick but James was ready and stepped out with a stagger, nearly falling to the ground.

Almost instantly, his ears filled with the sounds of bustling witches and wizards, clambering to get their things for the start of school term. James looked up, dusted himself off, and felt his jaw drop in awe.

Whatever memory of Diagon Alley he had when he was younger could not do this cobblestone street justice. Stores and goods filled to the brim with animals flying above, people on broomsticks hovering above the crowds on foot, and there were just about every imaginable witch or wizard. Some were old while some were extremely young—others wore dazzling attire while some wore Muggle clothing!

"James?" Mrs. Potter said as she dusted the door from her shoulder. "Stick with me, please."

James looked around, still in slight shock, but managed to move his feet and follow his mother.

"I say we go to Ollivander's first," Mrs. Potter said as she consulted the list of equipment and supplies required by first years. "No—let's get your books first, dear."

James could not really decide what he wanted, so he followed his mother, trying to see everything at once. His neck began to ache with the amount of twisting and turning, but it was worth it for his eyes soaked up every little detail.

"Flourish and Blotts," Mrs. Potter said and veered rather sharply to the right. James nearly tripped over his feet trying to catch up to her.

The shop smelled exactly what James had imagined a bookstore to smell like. Even in the window display, the shelves were just brimming to the edges with books of all kinds. How was he going to find his books in this hoard? But Mrs. Potter seemed to have read his mind for she put a consoling hand on his shoulder and gestured him forward.

"Ah, Mrs. Potter!" a man behind a desk (full of books) said in delight, arms moving with grandiose. "I was wondering when I would see your lovely self in Diagon Alley. How may I help you today?"

"James, dear, I'll grab your books but I need you to find me a book of my own. I wrote down the title here—" she handed him a piece of torn off parchment, "—which should be somewhere on the second floor."

James tilted his head this way and that in an attempt to read his mother's rather small and slanted handwriting. However, he took the page and split off, wanting to do the job right. He rushed upstairs, squeezing past a couple of witches, who stopped him in his tracks.

"Mr. Potter!" one witch said with a beaming grin. "Pleasure to meet you, do give my greetings to your mother!"

James, a bit startled, nodded awkwardly before slipping past them.

"He looks _just_ like Fleamont, Maureen, doesn't he?" the second witch commented, thinking James was out of earshot or simply did not care. "But he has Euphemia's face!"

"Fleamont is shorter," the first witch corrected as if it were an obvious thing. "That boy will be something! I cannot wait to see how he will continue his family's status."

"Oh, that family has been hoping and wishing for a child of their own," the second witch said and sighed with contentment. "Wish granted—they birthed a son!"

James frowned as he stared at the spines and covers of random books while eavesdropping. Neither his mother or father ever mentioned anything about their blood status and while he knew his mother and father were respectable pure-bloods, he did not think it mattered to his parents.

He shook his head and looked at the slightly crumpled piece of paper in his hands. _House-Elf Care and Health: A Reference Guide_ by Hilda Moggins. James followed the sign that said "Elves" and started searching for his mother's desired book.

It took him ages to find it, but there it was! He just about snatched the book from the pile that wobbled dangerously and hurried back to the first floor, where he could see his mother stuffing the books in her coin purse. How she managed to pull such a feat boggled James.

"Mum," James called out, waving the book high above his head as he bounded over to her. "Here."

"Wonderful, James, thank you," Mrs. Potter said and turned to the man behind the desk once more, purchasing the book before giving him a farewell wave.

She instinctively grabbed James's hand and tried walking him out the door—but James cleared his throat pointedly and wriggled his hand free.

"Mum," he coughed, looking at her.

"Sorry," Mrs. Potter said and patted his hand instead. "Old habits do die hard. Thank you for finding my book. Poor Tia has been feeling under the weather. I was hoping to find a potion I could brew for the darling."

That seemed to have sparked a new thought for James knit his eyebrows and tapped his mother's arm.

"Why haven't you mentioned our blood status more?"

Mrs. Potter looked at him lightly, a smile on her face.

"I have no need to worry about blood status, James. In fact, I almost prefer any other status—that trend is dying out and while it may have been popular when I was a girl, your father and I do not care anymore."

It was such a straightforward answer. James knew why his mother and father were so lenient; it had taken them years, much longer than normal, to bear a child and the moment James came along, he became their world. It did not matter who James would eventually marry as long as he was content.

"Next we need to go to Ollivander's," Mrs. Potter said and tapped his lips thoughtfully. "The place will be crowded, but we will make do. Come along..."

James quickened his pace and soon found himself in front of another lopsided-looking building. Like his mother predicted, there was already a thronging crowd inside. However, an old man waved his hands impatiently.

"All right, all right! Clear out! I have customers!"

The crowd dispersed, taking their cameras and megaphones with them. James stuck close to his mother's side, but when he entered the shop, he could not help but race around in excitement.

"Mum!" he said, waving her over. "Look at this!"

"Yes, we're here to see Mr. Ollivander, James," Mrs. Potter said and dipped her head respectfully to the man who had shooed everyone out of his shop.

"Mrs. Potter, what a pleasure," the man, Ollivander, said to James. "You must be James Potter."

James, now having calmed himself down, nodded and dipped his head much like his mother had taught him.

"Aha, I see," Mr. Ollivander said and looked at him up and down. James felt a little awkward and shuffled his weight from foot to foot. "You have an eye for Transfiguration, I can tell, Mr. Potter."

James looked surprised—he was able to transform small, inanimate objects into other small, inanimate objects for as long as he could remember. He did not think it was anything special.

Mr. Ollivander disappeared into the back of his shop but emerged moments later with a sleek, wooden box.

"10 inches, dragon heartstring, and mahagony wood."

James hummed and cautiously reached out a hand to hold the wand, but the moment his fingers wrapped around the handle, he hissed and snatched it back, cradling it close to his chest.

The wand felt so hot, it was cold to the touch. He nursed his reddening hand and looked at the wand with such an affronted expression. He stepped a bit closer to his mother now, feeling less confident than he was about thirty seconds ago.

Mr. Ollivander picked up the wand and scrutinized it carefully, narrowing his eyes as he tilted this way and that.

"I don't suppose that was supposed to happen," James muttered as he watched his skin form giant, white blisters.

"James," Mrs. Potter scolded.

"No, it just means the wand was not meant for you," Mr. Ollivander said, completely unfazed by James's slight agitation and rudeness. He merely went into his back storage room, voice muffled by the distance. "We are definitely on the right track! Don't be discouraged."

James mumbled something else under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Merlin's beard", but was quickly silenced by a sharp shake of his mother's head. Mr. Ollivander came back into view with a different wand in his hands, this one looking as innocent as the last one.

James was definitely more apprehensive this time and looked at his mother with slightly narrowed eyes. Mr. Ollivander pushed the wand into James's hands, who looked at it with a bit of a glare before reaching out ever so slowly. He tested the temperature a few times and once he deemed it safe, he lifted it up.

James's arm felt so light and suddenly the pain in his hand disappeared. He looked up at the wand, unable to keep a smile off his face. This wand felt natural in his grip. Mr. Ollivander smiled back, sensing the instant connection between wand and user. Mrs. Potter looked at Mr. Ollivander and lifted an eyebrow.

"That's the one," the wandmaker said with a single nod, never taking his eyes off James and the wand.

"11 inches, mahagony, and unicorn hair as the core."

Once the Potter exited his shop, Mr. Ollivander put away the wand that had rejected the boy the first time and tapped his fingers. Unicorn hair was a much finer choice. It was no wonder why that wand with the dragon heartstring had rejected him. The Dark Arts was not meant for James Potter.

**.oOo.**

Sirius Black curled his hands into fists, clenching his jaw as he passed a boy and his mother coming out from Ollivander's on his way in. His mother gave that woman a short nod but offered nothing else. Sirius barely caught a glimpse of the kid, but all he really saw was black, tousled hair.

"Mr. Black," Mr. Ollivander said and gave him a respected nod. "Mrs. Black I believe I have the perfect wand for you already picked out."

Sirius looked at his mother then looked at the older man, saying nothing out of fear of saying the wrong thing. He merely waited in silence.

"If you wouldn't mind, Mrs. Black, I prefer to take Mr. Black into my storage room where I have...targets set up," Mr. Ollivander said and added more for his explanation. "I do believe he will excel in the Dark Arts and I wish to keep my shop in it's prime condition."

Mrs. Black visibly looked dismissive at the idea, but she eventually relented with the fact the wandmaker was what they would consider an expert. She nodded and gave Sirius a push on the shoulder. Sirius's feet, which seemed to be glued to the floor, stumbled awkwardly. But, he did not have time to think for Mr. Ollivander was now beckoning him into the back of the wand shop, which Sirius did not like. However, he followed wordlessly, alert and tense.

"What's this wand?" Sirius asked though his tone was much more demanding.

"Dragon heartstring, 11 inches, and rowan wood," Mr. Ollivander said and looked at the wand as he unboxed it. He handed it to Sirius with great eagerness.

Sirius did not take it.

"Why do you think this is it?" Sirius asked again, this time a bit harsher.

"I don't," Mr. Ollivander said and pushed the wand into the raven-haired boy's hand and took a step back, pulling out his own wand. "Only the wand knows."

Sirius grabbed the wand in a rather snatching way and looked at Mr. Ollivander, who sent a flash of white light at him. Instinctively, Sirius threw up his hands to block his face from getting hit, but something had burst from the wand. It acted like a transparent barrier, protecting him from whatever spell was thrown at him.

Mr. Ollivander increased his power behind the spell, never breaking eye contact from Sirius, who was still holding his hands up to protect his face. Sirius struggled to keep up, feeling drained of energy. Moments later, he felt like he had been punched squarely in the chest with a hammer for he was thrown right off his feet.

"That's the one," Mr. Ollivander said, voice hazy as Sirius fought to open his eyes. The wandmaker was bent over him, eyes inches away from his own.

"What was that?" Sirius gasped, legs feeling like they were now water. "Oi, i-it threw me!"

"It protected you," Mr. Ollivander said and smiled victoriously, bolstering Sirius back up from the elbows. "It did exactly what I imagined."

"What?" Sirius asked, now more confused than ever.

"Only the wand knows," the old man said with a shrug of his shoulders. "But that's yours. It's chosen you as its rightful master."

The two had returned to the front of the shop, where Sirius's mother quickly paid for the wand and thanked him curtly. Mr. Ollivander merely nodded at Sirius, who cast his eyes downward at the wand he suddenly did not trust.

The eleven year old boy had left Ollivander's wand shop more conflicted than ever with a wand he was not sure of in his hand. His mother strode alongside him, offering him no comfort when he tried to voice his concern about said wand.

Why did it throw him back? Why did it not work for him? Why did Mr. Ollivander think it was the right wand for him? These questions and more rattled in Sirius's head, but he did not have long to linger on them.

"Lestrange."

Sirius jolted awkwardly and came to an abrupt halt to prevent himself from crashing into his mother.

"Walburga," a witch said with a vaguely familiar face. His mother, however, did not look pleased to see the other. "Will you be at the gala this year?"

"Small talk?" Walburga asked, pursing her lips as she leered over the witch with squared shoulders and a tightened jaw. "I still do not support the marriage. You know this."

"What Leta did has nothing to do with my son," the witch snarled, now growing angry herself.

Sirius's mother took the aggression as a threat and raised a finger. How many times had Sirius been on the receiving end of her wrath.

"She was a traitor," Walburga snarled dangerously, baring her teeth. "She aided in the downfall of Gellert Grindelwald, do you recall?"

"As well as you," the witch snapped heatedly. "Good day."

Walburga stuck her nose up in the air and brushed past the woman without another word. Sirius followed close behind, keeping his head down and his mouth shut.

Eventually, he found himself in Twilfitt and Tatting's, a robe shop where Sirius would know his mother was going him into Slytherin garb.

"Mum," he tried to say.

However, Walburga silenced him with a vice-like grip to his shoulder. She yanked the door open and stepped in, looking around immediately for the store owner. The owner stepped into view seconds later and broke out into a smile.

"This must be Sirius," said she, extending a hand.

Sirius, under his mother's watchful gaze, shook her hand and forced a smile. Walburga, who decided it was convincing enough, turned to the woman and gestured vaguely to her son with a wave of her hand.

"He is due for robes, Mariana."

"This is his first year, yes?" Mariana asked, humming as she pulled out her wand. With a wave, it spat out a measuring tape, which she held up next to Sirius. "Regulus is a year younger if I remember correctly."

"Yes," Walburga said quickly and tapped her lips thoughtfully. "Would you happen to have anything in emerald or silver?"

"Afraid not, Walburga, you know the rules," Mariana said and chuckled slightly as she began to write down the measurements with a floating quill. "Dumbledore is not one to any bending of any of them either."

Walburga tried to disguise the disgusted look on her face. Sirius knew his mother was not a fan of Albus Dumbledore, whoever that may have been, for she held such a significiant hatred for the wizard. Sirius chalked it up to his mother's superiority complex.

"Yes, well," she said and folded her arms over her chest. "He will be in Slytherin, so I would prefer to purchase the robes as soon as I can."

"I cannot do that," Mariana said again, waving her wand. Sewing tools such a needles and thread came out from behind her desk. They began to magically cut a line of fabric from the roller. "You have no guarantee your boy will be sorted there anyway. It would be a shame to waste money on that uncertainty."

"I beg your pardon?" Walburga said, taken aback. She pointed a finger at Sirius. "My family has only ever been in Slytherin, unless you are insinuating impurity?"

"Not at all," Mariana said, keeping her composure underneath the angry woman's glare. "I am merely suggesting the greatness and extraordinary gifts are rooted deep within your family, Walburga. Perhaps your family is meant to conquer more than one Hogwarts house."

Walburga seemed to mull this over for she fell silent and deflated a bit. She seemed to like that answer for she did not press the matter. Instead, Mariana was able to work in silence, weaving her wand this way and that to thread the needle through the fabric. First came the sleeves, then the shoulders, and then the torso. Sirius waited patiently, watching with suppressed interest.

Mariana eventually was able to sew and attach the hood and pockets into the robes, which were brand new and custom made. She looked over her work, inspecting every slight and small detail, walking around it as she poked and prodded at it with her wand. The robes, suspended a foot off the ground, looked as acceptable, even by his mother's standards.

"I think this will work beautifully," Mariana said and turned to face the eleven year old boy. "Will you try them on?"

Sirius nodded and slipped his arms into the sleeves. The rest of the robe came forth and put itself on him; the fabric was as soft as it looked and just as high-quality. He looked at the witch, whose face was screwed up in concentration.

"The hem is perfect but the sleeves may need work," she murmured to herself.

"I think they're fine, Mariana," Walburga interjected and cleared her throat. "I will pay the exact amount the way it is."

"It's not my best work," Mariana said but stopped when Walburga gave her a look. "It will be discounted."

The robes flew off Sirius, folded itself in mid-air, then set itself neatly in a bag for Sirius to take with him. He had already purchased his books, wand, and robes. The only thing he knew his mother would want to visit would be Knockturn Alley.

As predicted, his mother turned into the darkened alley and led him straight into the shop called The Coffin House. The mere sight of its exterior sent shivers down Sirius's spine; he could only imagine what the inside looked like.

Just as horrible as the name suggested, the inside was even worse. It was horribly lit and the owner of the shop looked absolutely skeletal. Every bone was pronounced with tight, pale skin stretched over them. Their face was sunken in and their lips were an unusal shade of blue, almost as if there was no life. Sirius shrunk closer to his mother, feeling frightened and overwhelmed.

"Walburga," the corpse-like wizard said and raised a bony hand, which had long, silver fingernails. "How may I help you?"

"I'm looking for that charmed skeleton we talked about last time," Walburga said and looked around as if would somehow magically appear.

"What would a nice witch like you do with that?" the wizard wheezed.

"You are simply meant to do your job," Walburga hissed, now advancing on the weaker wizard with her wand drawn. "You are in no position or right to ask questions and based on your ghastly attire, you haven't the status nor power to agitate me today. I suggest you get what I asked for and be done with it."

"Yes," the wizard said and held up his hands to appease the angry witch. "It's in the front corner, reserved for you."

"That's all," Walburga said and sent the wizard to his knees, forcing him into a begging position. She smiled as if she were enjoying it. "Now, _that_ is where you belong...at my feet."

Sirius watched as his mother used her foot to kick the wizard the rest of the way to the ground. She gathered her robes and set off to the corner, where she was able to find her merchandise. She levitated it behind her and laid a single knut on the man's dusty counter.

"By yourself a decent set of robes," she said loftily and walked right out.

**.oOo.**

Peter tagged alongside his mother, who was moving at such a brisk pace that he had trouble keeping up. It was a short walk to Gringotts Wizarding Bank, but his mother was walking as if it would disappear within the hour.

Eventually, she came to a stop before a great, white building with pillars that towered over him. She put a hand on Peter's back and guided him forward, holding the door for him while he entered. The moment Peter took his first steps inside, his jaw dropped. It had to be one of the grandest places he had ever been in. Just as he was about to step forward, he had to put on the brakes sharply to avoid a collision with a creature about a head shorter than him.

"Goblins," Mrs. Pettigrew explained, catching onto her son's confusion and anxiety. "Show them respect and you will have nothing to fear, dear. Come along. We need to make a withdrawal."

Peter, this time, stuck close to his mother's side and followed her all the way to the front. The goblin did not spare them a second glance, eyes still trained solely on the parchment before him. Mrs. Pettigrew cleared her throat apologetically.

"I'm sorry," she said gingerly. "I hope you wouldn't mind terribly if I could make a quick withdrawal."

The goblin seemed to have been taken by his mother's more timid and submissive nature for he set his quill down and finally looked at her. His lips parted, revealing two rows of sharp teeth and suddenly Peter found himself wondering whether goblins bite or not.

"If you have your key, you may follow me."

Mrs. Pettigrew pulled out the key and handed it to the goblin, who jumped from his desk and beckoned them forward. Peter scurried after her as the three made their way to a black, brass door.

The goblin touched and tapped the surface with certain fingers, which opened the door to reveal a strange, cart-like vehicle. Mrs. Pettigrew stepped forward first and sat in one of the available seats. Peter took the one next to her and scooted away from the edge as far as he could.

"Do not go bounding about the cart," the goblin warned as he lit a lantern nearly the size of him. "Unless you don't mind falling to your death."

Peter was itching to retort, but something his mother said about respect stuck in his head, so he kept it to himself. Instead, he tucked his arms a little closer to himself. Although, he was not prepared for the sudden, forward lurch. He had to grab on to the edge to steady himself but the cart was already moving swiftly down the tracks. They began to descend.

The walls became rocks, the light dimmed completely, and the air got cooler. Peter was, without a doubt, underground. He made the mistake of looking over the edge and instantly regretted it.

They were hundred of feet above the ground, which was not even visible from his standpoint, and they were moving at incredible speeds. Not to mention, there were no safety rails or guards or anything to protect him from falling should there be a malfunction.

"Vault 479," the goblin said and pulled a strange lever. "It will be on our right."

Peter, now alarmingly dizzy, struggled to get out of the cart with any sort of grace. He managed to free one foot but knocked into the goblin trying to wedge the other one out. The poor goblin looked enraged, but managed to keep a professional demeanor (he would just angrily glare at Peter every so often). Peter had never seen his family vault in Gringotts before but now he understood why not.

He could count the number of galleons on two hands and the number knuts and sickles on one. It would be difficult for him to afford anything on the list with the meager savings, but somehow his mother was going to manage. He would have to trust her.

However, it was disheartening to see just how much his parents struggled just to get by. His mother seemed to have noticed his worried expression for she smiled and patted him on the cheek lovingly.

"We have much more, we just haven't exchanged our Muggle money."

Peter forced a smile, but his heart said otherwise.

**.oOo.**

Remus's face turned red at all the stares he received as he walked down the cobblestone road of Diagon Alley. He had just endured another full moon and the effects had not yet worn off. His face was bruised and bloodied, but his mother walked around with him with a sort of furious pride.

She would demand they leave them alone if someone stared too long. Remus was touched by his mother's protectiveness, but at the same time, he was mortified at himself. His mother had to suffer from stares and whispers because of him and it weighed heavy on his shoulders.

"Remus?"

He looked at his mother before his stomach lurched in a funny way. It did not take long for him to buckle, ground rushing up to meet him. Remus didn't remember much afterwards other than the peaceful slumber his mind slipped into on his way down.

* * *

#### Xxxxxxx: Thank you very much! I hope you are around to enjoy the next chapter of the story.


	3. Bells and Whistles of Hogwarts Express

**All rights remain.**   
**You'll recognize J.K. Rowling's direct quotations from the book (plus some added detail from me).**   
**And to be fair, she practically owns this entire story.**

Remus looked at his ticket this way and that, trying to decipher what exactly _Platform 9 - 3/4_ meant. He looked at his mother, who had insisted she accompany him while Lyall stayed at home to recover from a particularly nasty bout of Dragon Pox. The crowds were overwhelming but Remus was able to stick close to his mother's side, following in her wake as she led the way.

The trolley, itself, was not heavy; however, August's full moon had taken a toll on his strength. Remus was covered from head to toe with scars and bruises and his tired eyes could not hide it. Hope looked over her shoulder to see where he was in proximity to her, evidently scared of losing him in the thronging group of bustling people. She ignored the strange looks people gave them both due to the contents of said trolley and moseyed on forward until she reached the gates of nine and ten.

"This is something your father would know better than me," Hope murmured as she looked around, hoping the answer would somehow magically make itself present. She looked at Remus's ticket thoughtfully.

"This can't be right," Remus said and worriedly looked at the clock. "What if I miss the train?"

"I will make sure that won't happen," Hope said soothingly, tapping her lips. "This platform is neither nine or ten. It's...it's somewhere in between."

Remus screwed up his face and looked unimpressed as he abandoned his trolley and walked over to the wall between the two signs. He folded his arms over his chest and glared at the bricks as if they had personally offended him. The lycanthrope rolled his eyes after a moment and aimed a kick—except his leg went right through the wall! Remus yelped and, with great force, managed to yank his leg back.

"Aha," Hope said and as she swiftly walked over to the wall. "It can only be activated by magic, Remus; you must go first but I am sure I can follow close behind."

Remus's jaw dropped.

"What?"

"Take your trolley and walk straight between the platforms nine and ten," Hope explained, looking at her wristwatch. "And you best hurry if you want to find a seat. You have less than twelve minutes, dear."

Remus's stomach lurched; he raced over to his trolley but the moment he put his hands on the handles and steadied himself, he felt his feet freeze. He looked at the traitors, but they would not budge. He had no desire to make a fool of himself by running headlong into a wall and come out looking like a pug. He looked at his mother helpessly, but she could only shrug her shoulders.

"I can't go through first," she said.

Remus swallowed his fear and began to walk forward at a rather brisk pace. Three—two—one more yard away. Remus closed his eyes, bracing his body for the impact that never came. He opened his eyes, peering through momentary darkness as if he were in a tunnel. Seconds later, however, his eyes adjusted ot the bright light and his ears twitched painfully at the loud train whistle.

Remus looked behind him to see what appeared to be a normal brick wall—just on the other side. He waited off to the side patiently for his mother, who appeared seconds later. She grasped his arm reassuringly, but Remus was beginning to hyperventilate. His eyes were wide and darting about as if he were trying to see everything at once. His mother seemed to have noticed his discomfort for she pulled him aside.

"Remus?"

"I-I...what's going to happen?" he fretted as he looked around, jumping at the sound of the whistle.

"You are going to be safe," Hope said and grabbed him in for a hug, kissing him on the cheek as she combed her fingers through his dark-blonde hair. "I promise you. Your father and I will write every week if you wish."

"I mean—"

"Yes," Hope interjected, noticing how the whistle blew for the third time in the span of two minutes. "You will board that train alone and I promise you will be okay. The moment you reach Hogwarts, you can send a letter. Your owl will find us—your father said so."

"I know, I know," Remus said hurriedly before the conductor of the train began to shout inaudibly. He gasped, eyes widening once more as he grabbed onto his mother's arm. "I have to go!"

"Yes," Hope said calmly, giving him a warm smile. "And you will have a wonderful time."

She pushed him away from her and took a step back. Remus waved goodbye to his mother, knowing he was going to send her a letter as soon as he reached the castle, and hurried towards the train. He weaved through weeping and tearful parents, mumbling apologies here and there, before he reached the train, itself. He looked at the golden letters: HOGWARTS EXPRESS.

The conductor nodded graciously and waved his wand, levitating Remus's things to a storage space out of view. However, Remus could not part with his trunk and took it with him on the train. The first thing he noticed where the corridors and train compartments. The second thing he noticed was just how many students—witches and wizards like him—were galloping around, excited for another year.

Remus pressed himself against the wall as two, burly boys zipped past him as if they were participating in some great race. Remus found an empty compartment and seized the opportunity to take it. He threw open the sliding door and practically fell on to the seats. He had to take a moment to recompose himself, but he managed to take a few deep breaths and calm himself down.

He lifted his trunk above his head, noticing the racks above. His trunk hit something else and it took a moment for him to realize it was the trunk of another student. Remus blanched, but before he could make his great escape, someone else came into the compartment, wheezing slightly and doubled over. It was a shorter boy with his hands on his knees. He had mumbled something under his breath, which sounded suspiciously like "rampaging hippogriffs", but Remus was not completely sure.

The boy shook his head crossly then finally seemed to notice Remus, who was standing there awkwardly with his trunk held above his head. The poor boy must have been startled by the presence of another for he jumped then put a hand to his chest, rubbing it ruefully.

"I'm sorry," Remus began, trying to bring the trunk back down without it falling over. "I was just—I'm going—"

"No!" the plumper boy said with a frantic wave of his hand. He managed to catch his breath for he straightened up and shuffled his feet almost as awkwardly as Remus felt. "Sorry, my name's Peter Pettigrew. I was just...trying to find my chocolate frog that hopped off..."

Peter had trailed off, looking at his feet shyly.

"M-my name's Remus Lupin," Remus introduced, deciding to pick up where Peter Pettigrew had left off. "Er—I didn't know this compartment was occupied until I noticed your trunk."

Remus managed to bring his own on ground level without it tipping off balance. Peter seemed to have felt a little more comfortable at the lycanthrope's mild mannered demeanor, for he looked back up.

"Oh! You're welcome to stay," he squeaked, smiling for the first time. "I don't mind sharing...if you don't!"

Remus's eyes, which were trained on the boy's rather large two front teeth, travelled up to meet Peter's.

"Thanks," he said, a breath of relief and gratitude. There was something about this meek boy that made Remus feel more relaxed and he decided it would be a great way to spend the train ride. "Are you a first year?"

"I am," Peter replied eagerly, voice still high. The poor thing cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm an only child so no one's been to Hogwarts before! I'll be the first one!"

"Wow," Remus said and winced as his fingers got caught in the handle, quick to yank it free. "Are either of your parents magic?"

"My mum," Peter said but waved a hand as Remus looked confused. "She's not from England though! She went to a different school—I forgot what it was called, but it had some fancy name. I think it was Bow...Bow-something."

"Oh," Remus said, not quite sure how to respond to that. He made up for his lack of a response by trying to lift his trunk back over his head, forgetting just how heavy it was. He nearly lost his footing.

"Let me help," Peter said and hurried over to Remus's side. However, Peter Pettigrew was about a head shorter than Remus and his arms could not bring themselves to add any height. "Er—here!"

He got right up on the compartment seat and held bolster Remus's trunk. Together, the two of them managed to set his right next to Peter's.

"Thanks for your help!" Remus said, pushing his hair from his eyes, now slightly warm and definitely sore. "You said you were looking for a chocolate frog?"

Peter blushed.

"I hear they've only got one good leap," Remus said, giving him an encouraging smile. "Maybe we can go look for it. It couldn't have gone far. Besides, you helped me. Let me help you!"

"Okay," Peter said uncertainly, but he grinned at the new company. "I've got to show you something else! It's wicked cool!"

**.oOo.**

Sirius had boarded the train with sore feelings, jaw clenched as he watched his mother, father, and brother stare back at him evenly. He grumbled his farewell, barely sparing his mother a second glance. Walburga seemed only too eager to send him off with a sharp tongue, which made the farewell even more bitter. Regulus, who was snickering behind his hand as if amused, fueled Sirius's anger.

However, the moment they were out of sight, they had left his mind. Now, Sirius was buzzing with excitement, looking around as he tried to take everything in at once. Perhaps it was this newfound sense of freedom, but Sirius felt like he was on top of the world.

"Oi!" a voice came from behind.

Sirius barely managed to leap out of the way before a boy wtih unruly black hair and glasses came skidding to a halt. The boy straightened up with an apologetic grin, fixing his glasses, which became askew on his face.

"Sorry," the boy panted and pointed to a something scurrying out of view. "Trying to catch a dungbomb."

Sirius grinned back.

"What blighter let it loose?"

"Frank Longbottom," the boy said and jerked a thumb of his shoulder. "His trunk's just about full of them! I'm James, by the way! James Potter!"

"Sirius," Sirius said and nudged James Potter in the ribs. "A trunk full of dungbombs? That's brilliant! Where are you sitting?"

"Dunno yet, haven't found a place," James replied, using his hand to wave vaguely at his trunk and other belongings. "But I reckon that one there—"

Sirius shook his head and pointed through the window.

"It's taken by one already and I don't want to deal with a soppy girl _—and look,_ there's another trunk here. Let's find somewhere else—"

"Bugger that," James said dismissively and slid open the door, helping himself to the other side; he hoisted his trunk up with surprising ease and grace. "There's nowhere else. They'll just have to share."

Sirius snickered. The two boys entered though the compartment's occupant hardly seemed fazed by the newest additions. The girl sat facing the window, not bothering with any sort of greeting, which did not bug James nor Sirius at first. The two merely went about their own conversation, talking excitedly about the prospect of a new life at Hogwarts. Evidently, they knew all about it.

The train whistle blew and without warning, it lurched forward. The train began to pick up speed as it went down the track, revealing blurred faces of parents and other various family members waving furiously and mopping their eyes. The Hogwarts Express was off, taking the anticipating students off to their next adventure. Eventually, most students took their seats in whatever compartments were available, leaving the corridors rather empty.

However, there was a boy with hair just shy of his shoulders, black as ember. He had a dark, surly look about his pallid and sunken face as he went from compartment to compartment. James and Sirius took note of this and snorted behind their hands. The Potter boy had muttered something that sounded close to "poor sod's lost in a train!", making Sirius laugh heartily.

The moment the lanky boy came skidding to a halt in front of the girl's compartment, he nearly ripped the door open, Hogwarts robes billowing and getting caught on the hinges. The girl had looked at the boy then promptly looked away, wiping her reddened eyes.

"I don't want to talk to you," she said, voice strained and constricted as she took deep, shaky breaths.

"Why not?" the lanky boy asked, taken aback and looking hurt.

"Tuney h-hates me," the girl said mournfully, hanging her head as she sniffled, hands twisting in her lap. "Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore!"

"So what?" the lanky boy said though his tone did not seem to sit well with the girl he already apparently knew. He took a bit of a step back from the menacing glare she had sent him.

"So she's my sister!" the girl snapped, green eyes narrowing dangerously, as if daring the boy to argue. But the mere thought of her sister had sent the poor redheaded girl into tears once more.

"She's only a—" the boy stopped, biting his lip.

Fortunately, the girl was too busy trying to wipe her eyes discreetly with her sleeve, brushing her hair from her eyes as an excuse for her actions. She showed no signs that she heard him.

"But we're going!" the lanky boy said and could not help but smile at the elation bubbling just beneath the surface of his being. "This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!"

The girl took one last deep breath and with a sniffle and quick wipe of her tears, attempted a watery smile; the boy looked on encouragingly, trying to get her excited for Hogwarts as much as he was.

"You'd better be in Slytherin," the lanky boy added, glad his friend was lightening up.

" _Slytherin_?" cackled a new voice.

Finally, James Potter, who had been ignoring the two since he entered the compartment, looked at the two bedraggled duo with a sort of arrogance. He narrowed his hazel eyes, which gleamed behind those black, square-framed glasses. James curled his lip back.

"Who wants to be in Slytherin?" he snorted, then turned to Sirius Black, who looked troubled once more. James rolled his eyes. "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

Sirius, who had been comfortable lounging with his feet propped up on his knee and his arms thrown back in a relaxing manner, did not smile. He leaned forward with a sort of worried frown.

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," he said although there was great reluctance in admitting this. He sounded almost ashamed.

"Blimey," James said, biting the inside of his cheek and wanting to make his new friend feel better. "And I thought you seemed all right!"

This seemed to lift the slightly sunken spirits of the eldest Black heir, for he grinned widely.

"Maybe I'll break the tradition!" he said, remembering the words of Mariana— _perhaps he would be the first Black to be in Gryffindor, conquering a new Hogwarts house but in a completely different way._ "Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

"Gryffindor!" James answered without a moment of hesitation, lifting an invisible sword and puffing out his chest proudly. "'Where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad!"

The lanky boy made a small, disparaging noise, not bothering to hide his mocking amusement. This caught the attention of James for he rounded on the boy with his shoulders squared back.

"Got a problem with that?" he demanded.

"No," the lanky boy said haughtily, sticking his nose in the air. However, his tone suggested otherweise. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy—"

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" Sirius interjected, looking at the lanky boy with an air of superiority.

James, who harbored a rather agitated expression, broke out in laughter, doubling over as he and Sirius sneered at the lanky boy. Said lanky boy paled even more, but the girl rose to her feet, cheeks flushed, and glared at James and Sirius.

"Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment," she said.

"Oooo!" James and Sirius crooned, causing quite the scene.

"'Come on!'" Sirius said, lifting the tone of his voice to imitate the girl.

"'Let's go find another compartment!'" James hollered, grabbing onto Sirius's hand and pretending to look at him with great sadness. "Can't stand these blokes having their own conversation!"

The lanky boy rose to his feet, but nearly stumbled when James stuck out his foot.

"See ya, Snivellus!" Sirius and James chorused, waving as the compartment door slammed shut.

**.oOo.**

Remus and Peter came running back to their compartment only to find their things left outside and now occupied by a couple of students much older than them. Instead of a confrontation, Remus and Peter looked at each other and sighed in defeat, grabbing their things (Peter clutching the chocolate frog close to his chest) and shuffled their way down the corridor, looking for another empty or available space.

Finally, they found it and it was filled with only two boys who looked their age. Remus knocked awkwardly, catching the attention of a boy with glasses, who grinned and waved them in.

"Sorry," Remus said timidly, poking a toe at the ground as he looked between the bespectacled boy with unruly hair and the other boy who looked so elegant, he might as well have been a marble statue. "We were...dispatched from our compartment. D'you mind terribly?"

"Not at all," the boy said and waved. "I'm James Potter."

"Sirius Black," the second boy said with a raise of his hand.

"My name's Remus Lupin," Remus said and gestured to his friend. "And that's Peter Pettigrew."

Peter would have introduced himself but instead of his voice, all that came out was a strange, strangled squeak. He flushed red and looked at the ground, sticking close to Remus's side.

"Wotcher," James said cheerfully and nudged Sirius. "Better than the other two that were here."

Remus's mind suddenly flashed the vague memory of a redheaded girl and sullen boy and he frowned, hoping these two had nothing to do with the exasperated and frazzled expressions of the two other students that looked like they were fleeing.

"So, what did you lot do to get yourselves kicked out of a compartment?" Sirius asked, grinning widely to reveal two rows of perfectly aligned, white teeth. "Did you have anything to do with Longbottom's dungbombs?"

"Longbottom?" Peter asked, tilting his head.

"Who?" Remus asked before shaking his head no. "I dunno who that is. But, we weren't kicked out per say. But we were gone and when we came back, our trunks and things were outside."

"Why weren't you in the compartment then?" James asked curiously.

"Well," Remus said, about to answer, but stopped when he became unsure of whether to share that piece of information in fear of making it sound like he was blaming Peter. He changed courses. "Peter and I were looking for something."

"What?" Sirius prompted.

"This," Peter said, voice barely above a whisper as he gingerly lifted the inanimate chocolate frog.

"Brilliant!" James shouted happily. "Where's your card?"

Peter looked up at James in surprise then he looked back down at his toes, which were poking at the carpeted floor.

"I dunno, I think I lost it," he mumbled.

"No, hang on!" Remus said and fished through his Muggle clothing and pulled out something. "I saw this on the floor near your things. Is this your card?"

Peter's face brightened as he nodded eagerly and took the card to inspect it. However, he frowned when he saw who it was and sighed, setting it back down in his lap much less enthusiastically.

"I've already got two of Artemisia Lufkin," Peter said dejectedly and held it out for Remus. "D'you want it?"

"Would I!" Remus exclaimed and accepted the card gratefully, inspecting it from every possible angle with a smile on his face. He turned the back of the card over to read the text. "She's the first witch to become the Minister for Magic! That I knew already, but I've forgotten it happened in 1798."

"Did you read that somewhere, Sirius?" James asked teasingly, putting a hand to his chest. "I think I missed that crucial piece of information somewhere in my haste of good living."

Sirius laughed, but surprisingly so did Remus.

"I've got a whole trunk full of books about the history of magic," the lycanthrope said earnestly, unable to keep a hint of pride from his tone as he spoke highly of his book collection. "They are wonderful reads."

"I'll take your word," James said and held up his hands in surrender. "But I can't see myself reading those for fun."

"Well," Remus said, pulling out one seemingly from the crevices of his trunk. "Why don't you give it a go?"

"I prefer Transfiguration to History," James said although he took the book with a skeptical look. He flipped the book open to the first page of the first chapter and scanned it with his lips turned downward. "Definitely not a fan of History."

"It's an entire subject at Hogwarts," Remus said and accepted the book back from James with a slight smile of amusement.

"I hear the professor's _dead_ ," Sirius said with a grin. "I reckon he lived through some of the stuff he's teaching! I think his name was Botts or something? Or maybe I'm thinking of Flourish and Blotts."

"What? But how can they teach if they're dead?" Peter wondered out loud, gears turning in his head. "Oh!"

"Ghost," Sirius and Peter said together then laughed simultaneously.

"You're all right," James said to the two newcomers before he rose to his feet. "I'm changing into my school robes if anyone's concerned or even wondering."

The four boys took turns putting on their school uniforms, admiring themselves and one another in them. Most of the students, by the time the sun began to set, had changed, too, and the atmosphere was completely different. Everyone was growing even more excited now that the castle was drawing closer (plus most students were now now bouncing with sugar in their systems from the trolley).

"The first thing I'm going to do when I get there is..." Sirius paused for dramatic effect, grinning impishly as his mind seemed to reel with all sorts of ideas. "Pull a prank. How else are they going to remember me?"

"Merlin's beard, you're right!" James exclaimed happily, eyes alight. "What do you reckon?"

"Dunno yet but we'll think of something, won't we?" Sirius said, turning to Remus and Peter.

Peter had been engaging in the conversation, breaking out of his shell and feeling more comfortable the longer they spoke. Remus, deciding around the time they started on about Quidditch, decided to open the book in his lap and read it. This did not go well with his compartment company for they had snagged the book away on multiple occasions, trying to tell him that reading could wait.

"What about exploring?" Peter asked, breaking the momentary silence. "After all, we'll be there for the next seven years. We might as well get familiar with the grounds we're living on."

"Yes!" James and Sirius roared.

"I've got just the thing for that, too," James added. "But I'll save it for later."

"Then that's settled," Sirius said and nodded as if he had determined some great choice.

Hogwarts castle was lit up bright against the night sky, illuminated by hundreds of lights streaming from every window, every crevice...it was a magnificent sight. The moment the four boys caught sight of the castle, not even Remus—the mild mannered boy—could keep his excitement at bay. Evidently they were not the only ones for there were excited shouts and cheers coming from just about every compartment.

This was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


	4. Hogwarts School

**All rights remain.**

James looked over the rim of his glasses at the boy whose neck was covered in angry, red marks. At first, he thought Remus must have gotten into a fight with a feline of some sort and lost, but something about those marks did not add up. However, his scrutiny was short-lived. Remus had leaped up in his seat, angling himself in a way that blocked James's view of his scratches and pointed to the window.

"Look!" he shouted, catching the attention of a lounging Sirius Black and slumbering Peter Pettigrew. "It's Hogwarts!"

James's heart jolted as he sprang to his own feet, squashing his nose right up against the cool glass to get a view of the castle. It was lit up, stark against the indigo sky and welcoming. James pulled back with a huge grin on his face, his curiosity temporarily stemmed by his newfound elation.

"Finally!" he said and grabbed his trunk off the top rack with that same, graceful ease. "I've been waiting to see Hogwarts for myself since I got the letter! No, actually...since I first heard my parents talking about Hogwarts!"

Sirius looked at his shoes for a fraction of a second. Clearly the mention of family did not bring upon any warm memories, but the eldest Black heir did not harbor sad feelings for long. He, too, twisted on his seat to grab his things and bring them to ground level.

"It's about bloody time," he said to James in agreement, stowing the few things he had taken out of his trunk back inside it. He, then, frowned as he looked at the Hogwarts crest with all four animals representing the Hogwarts houses.

"Oi," James said, noticing the way his new friend froze on the spot, eyes glued to his robes. "It doesn't matter what house you'll be in, mate. You're still going to be my friend. We can't stop talking now! We've got a castle to explore."

Sirius shook himself from his stupor and forced a smile though it was not too convincing. Peter was scrambling to help Remus with his belongings, both boys panting heavily as they balanced the items dangerously on their hands.

"Let me help," James said, moving over to grab the handle of Remus's trunk and lift it by himself. It was, perhaps, the lighter than his own. James tried not to make any judgemental expressions as he nudged Remus playfully. "Consider me your very own, personal Knight in Shining Armour!"

"Oh, right," Remus said with a roll of his eyes though the corners of his lips were defintely turned upward. "I'll follow you about and polish your suit of armour while you protect me. So very Gryffindor-like of you."

"Well," James said, puffing out his chest. "That is the house I'll be in."

Remus snorted while Peter sniggered behind his hand, amused at the antics of these boys. The Hogwarts Express came skidding to a slow but high-pitched halt after a painful thirteen minutes of waiting as the castle in sight grew larger. The compartment doors started opening all at once and students came pouring out into the corridors with their things in tow.

Peter watched the crowd mingling excitedly amongst one another, pushing each other this way and that in their haste to get off the stuffy train and outside. Eventually, the crowd thinned out enough where the four boys took their turn to depart. They left their trunks with the others by the conductor and hurried with the crowd, about to swept away with them when someone shouted in a great voice.

"Firs' years on the boats!"

"Boats?" Peter echoed, eyes now wide with terror. "Oh, no!"

"What?" James said as the four of them veered off course and headed towards the lake's shore. "Not seasick are you?"

"No," Peter said indignantly though his tone suggested otherwise. "I just...I don't like water. I never learned how to swim. What if the boat tips over? We don't know what's in that lake! What if there's...some lochness monster?"

"Peter," Sirius said, cutting the boy's ramblings off with a sharp prod to the arm. "Shut it for a moment and listen. The boats are probably magic seeing as this is a school of magic. I doubt they'll tip over."

Peter frowned though he looked less worried.

"Even if it does, we'll rescue you," Sirius added.

"Pardon, but James is evidently _my_ Knight in Shining Armour," Remus interjected, earning a roar of laughter from all three boys.

The light humor seemed to alleviate any apprehension or hesitation for they followed the booming voice to a lake shore lined with wooden boats with lanterns swinging on the ends of each. A man taller than any man any of the boys have seen were directing first years into said boys by four.

"Come on, then," James said encouragingly, pointing to one of the boats nearby. "Let's help ourselves."

Sirius, Peter, Remus, and James all managed to clamber into the wooden rowboat, steadying it as it wobbled a little uncertainly. Peter whimpered but Remus, who was sitting closest to him, gave him a reassuring smile. James pushed them off with a foot and with a hefty lurch, the rowboat started forward, magically slicing through the water without any aid.

"Wow," the four of them chorused as their eyes widened in awe.

The black water reflected the lantern's light, muddling the image. Remus could not help himself and dipped his finger into the cool water, taking note at just how chilly it felt despite the warm air. The water rippled not from Remus's fingers but from something the students could see from afar.

"What's that?" Peter cried out, pointing in the general direction where other students were gaping at. He leaned against the boat, rocking it dangerously. "Over there! I can see something!"

"Watch it!" Remus shouted as he grabbed onto the edge to recompose himself. "I almost fell!"

"Me, too," James said and frowned as he switched positions to balance the weight of the boat out. "Besides, I don't see anything, mate. It's your ruddy imagination! Don't rock the boat."

Too late.

Peter leaned just a little too far and began to dip the boat his way, water starting to fill in at the bottom. The other three boys shouted in surprise, unable to react fast enough. James was the first to fall off, spluttering as his face went in first, then his torso. Next, Sirius, who tried to grab James by the hood of his Hogwarts robes, but could not brace himself on anything. He was the second to plunge halfway in.

Remus yelped and scrambled to the other side, trying to help Peter. James managed to haul himself up from out of the water, shivering as he collapsed on the wooden bench, dripping but grinning at the same time. Sirius, who was in a considerably less of a predicament than the bespectacled boy, managed to get himself seated once more.

"Wicked, mate," James said and nudged Sirius in the arm. "I think I saw an entire city down there!"

"I doubt it," Remus said though he sounded exasperatedly amused. "It's too dark to see anything, I can barely see you."

"Maybe you saw a lake monster," Peter murmured, mostly to himself though his eyes reflected his genuine concern. "What if it's that Giant Squid that everyone's been talking about?"

Sirius, Remus, and James all rolled their eyes and groaned, shaking their heads in disbelief. Peter fell silent and did not mention any lake monsters for the rest of the boat ride to the castle. Once again, the first years began to mingle excitedly as the castle's shores came into view. The boats came to a slow halt, beaching itself gently without so much as a tiny lurch.

The party of four leaped from their rides and followed the giant man who led them from the boats, up the stone stairs, and to the castle's main entrance. Remus could see the last of the older students filing into the castle, but his mind was somewhere else completely. Up until the present moment, he had not thought about what house he would be sorted into even though the Sorting was moments away.

"This way!" the giant man said, waving a great hand to summon the eager and anxious crowd of young and new faces. "Through here! Jus' past these doors!"

Remus watched from the fringes of the crowd as the double doors swung open slowly to reveal a brightly lit corridor. The giant marched forward with students in his large wake. Remus looked at James to see if he was as nervous, but the boy's hazel eyes gleamed. Remus looked to Sirius and Peter, who were both faced away from him so the young lycanthrope could not tell.

"Wai' here," the man said and turned to face them. "I'm Rubeus Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts. Jus' ter yer front, Professor McGonagall—"

"Thank you, Hagrid," a woman said the moment she stepped into view.

The witch, who must have been Professor McGonagall, looked exactly how Remus would have imagined a Headmistress. Her graying hair was tied back into a tight bun, hidden by her tall, pointed black witch's hat. Her robes were in pristine condition and Remus was sure there was not a single wrinkle. She peered at them through her spectacles with intimidating, sharp eyes.

"My future students, I am Professor McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts," she said, waiting no time for any side talk or conversations. "Just through these doors awaits the rest of the students, the professors, and the Sorting Hat. One by one, you will be called forward to be sorted into a Hogwarts House, which will remain your house for as long as you attend school here."

"I can't even remember the houses," Peter said dejectedly, hanging his head.

"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," Sirius hissed softly, earning a glare from Remus for talking out of turn.

Professor McGonagall, though older, seemed to have keen hearing for she narrowed her eyes at the four boys who were murmuring under their breaths. She did not stop her speech, but she kept an eye on them for the rest of it.

"Your house will become like a family," she continued, voice unwavering. "Each one of you should encourage one another to act accordingly and appropriately. Any rule breaking will result in the loss of house points among other consequences. On the contrary, any exceptionally good behavior will be rewarded. The house with the most points by the end of this year will receive the House Cup."

"Rule breaking?" Sirius echoed and grinned at James, who matched it. "Only bad if you get caught!"

"If would follow me," Professor McGonagall said loudly, her voice carrying all the way to the back of the crowd.

The doors to the Great Hall burst open and with her shoulders straight, Professor McGonagall led her new students down the middle. There, Remus could see hundreds of unfamiliar faces all staring at them from the the long, grand tables. He shrunk slightly at the attention, but James and Sirius seemed to be loving it for they were waving as if they were famous.

"Photos are _encouraged_ ," James said to the crowd, who chuckled in amusement.

Eventually, all the first years pooled around the front. Before them sat an old, dusty worn-out hat on a stool. It looked far less impressive than Professor McGonagall made it sound initially. Even Remus, who was expecting some sort of extravagant accessory, frowned and looked around as if he was convinced there had to be something else. However, Professor McGonagall stepped aside and waited patiently.

Suddenly, there seemed to be a great split for the hat's mouth appeared. A few first years gasped in surprise and jolted while others took a step back. Peter had flinched at first but tried to pull it off as brushing a fly from his face.

_Dear, I see your faces, all shining and brand new_

_And see how you find me on the fringes and really rather old_

_Well, I have quite a song for you that is proud and very true_

_But rest assured, there is not a spot of mold_

_I am, you see, the Sorting Hat_

_Brown and full of wrinkles, though smart as smart can be_

_I am, you see, the only hat that truly knows all that_

_Come upon this wooden stool and close your eyes_

_For you will be in for quite a spell_

_I only tell the truth, no secrets, and no lies_

_The House for you, now that I'll tell, before I bid you farewell_

_Shall it be the red and gold?_

_Do you hear a lion's roar?_

_Full of courage and ever so bold?_

_Perhaps you are a Gryffindor!_

_I see you are as fierce as a badger and quick to defend_

_The choice is not tough_

_You loyal to the end and never disappoint a friend_

_Then you are a Hufflepuff!_

_Your mind is sharp, your mind is bright_

_From a challenge, you never do withdraw_

_And in my mind, I know I'm right,_

_You belong in Ravenclaw_

_Your tongue is silver, ambitions high_

_Even if your dreams are far, you never do give in_

_I see you are cunning and quite sly, this I can't deny_

_You belong in the house of Salazar Slytherin!_

_Now, place me upon your head while you rest_

_Now don't be afraid, I'm not a fright_

_But let me do what I do best_

_Tell you where you need to know for I am always right!_

The Great Hall burst into applause as the Sorting Hat finished its last verse. Remus, momentarily distracted by the hat's song, jumped at the loud noise as his nerves came surging back. He looked at Professor McGonagall, who pulled out a scroll and unrolled it.

"Avery, Benedict!"

Remus watched as the first years sit nervously on the wooden stool as Professor McGonagall set the Sorting Hat upon their heads. It did not take much time for the Hat to decide where each student belonged. Names like Evan Rosier, Thorfinn Rowle, Altair Nott, Alden Mulciber, and Augustus Rockwood were easily recognizable due to their status as pure-bloods. Unsurprisingly, they were sorted into Slytherin.

Remus began to wonder if he would be sorted into Slytherin and though it was not an initial fear of his, he could not help but start to fret. He bit his lip and tried to keep himself from fidgeting too awkwardly, not keen on drawing attention to himself. And even though his legs ached with the pain of this month's full moon, nothing could compare to the anxiety keeping his heart racing.

"Evans, Lily!"

James gasped and looked on eagerly as the girl with flaming red hair came forth. He had recognized her from the compartment earlier on the train. She seemed paler than before but the moment she sat down, Professor McGonagall covered her face with the oversized hat.

"Gryffindor!"

Lily Evans broke out into a grin that seemed to illuminate the room. Sirius nudged James with a grin, whispering something like "you're drooling like a dog, mate". James shook his head from his stupor but he subtly tried to wipe the corner of his mouth with the back of his robes sleeves.

"Snape, Severus?"

James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus all looked up with rapt attention as they recognized the boy with long, black, stringly hair. It hung around his face like a curtain even as he moved swiftly to the front, black eyes trained on something out of view. James had turned to see Lily Evans, the same rehead who Snape was with before, watch him with a smalll smile on her face.

Snape sat down, hands gripping the stool's seat as he bounced a knee nervously. James and Sirius both rolled their eyes, unimpressed, and made faces as the Sorting Hat was lowered.

"I don't think I'd want that hat on _my_ head after it's been on his!" James sneered.

"I bet it's all greasy!" Peter chimed in, earning an approving nod from both Sirius and James.

"Slytherin!"

"Black, Sirius!"

This time, it was Sirius's turn to freeze. However, the name must have been important for people all over the Great Hall began to murmur. The Slytherin table, Remus realized, looked more anticipated than most. James watched Sirius split from his side and venture to the front of the crowd, where he eyed the Sorting Hat with a sort of great dislike. James held his breath.

Sirius sat down, biting his cheek.

"Ah, another member of the Noble House of Black," the Hat murmured into his ear.

"Get on with it," Sirius huffed, nerves turning into agitation.

"Without a doubt, you are a GRYFFINDOR!"

" _What_?"

"No way!"

Sirius felt the room spin slightly as Professor McGonagall lifted the Hat off his head, which felt like an entire world off his shoulders. Suddenly, his heart stopped beating yet it felt like it couldn't beat any faster. He was sorted into Gryffindor. A thrill of excitement brought tears to his eyes, but like a boy, he wiped them away hastily and marched down with his hands raised in victory. He had broken his family's tradition and though he would suffer the consequences later, he was untouchable.

"There's never been a Black outside of Slytherin!"

"He doesn't deserve the name!"

James cheered the loudest although Remus and Peter were clapping, too. The Gryffindor students looked as shocked as the Slytherins, who watched Sirius seat himself right in the middle of the Gryffindor table, shaking hands with his fellow House and smirking wildly at the students adorned in green and silver. He tilted his chin up, eyes flashing triumphantly. The room finally quieted down after the uproar and Professor McGonagall continued without pause. Eventually...

"Lupin, Remus!"

Remus flared up the collar of his white shirt to hide the marks tainting his neck. He swallowed nervously and, with shaking legs, migrated to the front of the crowd. He took a seat on the stool and flinched when the Sorting Hat was placed upon his head.

"Not a difficult decision at all," the Sorting Hat said immediately. "Gryffindor!"

Remus's stomach lurched funnily, but it was a pleasant feeling as though the worries had been expelled from his body. He was happy with the choice and hurried over to the Gryffindor table where Sirius was there to greet him.

"Well done, mate!" Sirius congratulated, drawing Remus in for a hug. "I had a feeling you'd be here!"

"You did?" Remus asked curiously as the two of them sat back down.

"Course," Sirius said as if the answer was obvious.

They waited a little longer before Professor McGonagall called out Peter Pettigrew's name. The plump boy squeaked audibly but was quicker to move than Sirius or Remus. He sat quietly on the stool and waited patiently for the Hat. The Great Hall fell silent, so much so, one could hear the breathing of a person from a different table. Something about this eerie silence made Remus's skin crawl.

"Peter...Pettigrew..." the Hat murmured softly, so softly Peter could barely catch on to the words. "My most difficult choice yet..."

"I hope that's not a bad thing..." Peter whimpered, voice trembling as if he were about to cry.

"You are opportunistic," the Sorting Hat observed, humming which vibrated Peter's whole head. "Choices you make will be right or wrong. But in the end, you have the liberty. That is why you are..."

Remus looked at Sirius with a worried frown.

"Oh, no," the lycanthrope whispered, watching Peter squeeze his eyes shut. "I hope he's okay!"

"Gryffindor!"

Once again, the Gryffindor table erupted into a hoots and hollers. Remus and Sirius, along with many others, had sprung to their feet. Both first years jumped up and down excitedly as Peter made his way over to the table, sweaty and red. Peter wiped his brow and grabbed on to Remus's shoulder as he swayed unsteadily into his seat. Remus congratulated him over and over again, but was sure Peter was not hearing any of this. The Hat must have said something for Peter was in a complete daze.

It did not take long for Professor McGonagall to call out the last person Remus really cared about.

"Potter, James!"

James strode up to the stool and within seconds of sitting, the Hat roared its decision for all to hear.

"Gryffindor!"

Finally, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James were all able to sit together at the Gryffindor table. Although, James and Sirius had a hard time sitting still; they were up and around, talking and introducing themselves to everyone who asked.

"Now that our first years have been sorted," an elderly wizard said loudly, rising to his feet with his hands up. "I daresay you all must be hungry after the long journey here."

The students thundered their agreement.

"Then let the festivities begin."

The Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, gave his hands a little wave and before the students' very eyes, the empty plates filled themselves to the brim with food. There were turkey legs and wings, gravy, potatoes, pudding, pie, and everything in between. Remus had never seen so much food in his life and it all smelled so delicious. Unconsciously, his mouth began to water (although that was a side effect of being a werewolf).

Remus, who was sitting next to a redheaded girl, accidentally hit her hand, causing her to spill some of her drink. The girl gasped slightly, quick to set the goblet down, and move her hair out of harm's way.

"I'm so sorry!" Remus exclaimed, turning bright red. He had been in a hunger frenzy, he was barely aware of his surroundings. However, she seemed to snap him out of it right away. "I didn't mean to!"

"It's all right!" the girl said cheerfully, green eyes bright as she mopped up the bit of dribble. "I'm Lily Evans."

"Remus Lupin," Remus replied and stuck his hand out, which she promptly took and shook.

"I'm James," James interjected from across the table, puffing out his chest as he grinned at Lily Evans.

The girl seemed to have recognized the boy from the train and frowned pointedly. James opened his mouth again, but Lily turned away with a bit of a huff, causing James to knit his eyebrows.

"Merlin's beard, do you know what I realized?" Sirius asked through a mouthful of food, drumming his hand against the table.

"What?" the other three boys chorused.

"We're going to be here for the next seven years," Sirius said with a grin, kicking Remus in the knee under the table with a rather sharp foot. "The four of us...we're going to be living together."

Remus rolled his eyes.

"This is our year, our time at Hogwarts," James said.

"Ace!" Sirius said and took a bite of his turkey leg. "And we're going to be legendary!"


	5. First Day of Classes

**All rights remain.**

Remus stared at the mirror biting his nails, his lips, and the insides of his cheeks as his reflection copied his every move. He looked at the ticking clock, trying to remain as quiet as possible; however, the boiling blood in his veins and the ice, cold sweat made it nearly impossible to ignore. He sniffled, wiping his nose on the back of the sleeve of his favorite jumper, which reminded him of home.

He had stood in the crowd of children with blackened eyes and busted lips, but was perhaps even worse was his broken spirits. He had longed for his time at Hogwarts and though it had been everything he ever desired in his short, eleven years, he felt more hellbound than ever. Was it the fear of making friends? Was it the hope of having just one? Or was it the fear of losing what he wanted most?

Remus looked at himself, studying every crevice, every line, every scratch on his face. His eyes were hollow and tired although they tried to hold the light he grasped so tightly. Tear stained his cheeks albeit they were not given a second thought. Instead, his thoughts sought out his parents. He could remember the anxiety on their faces every time he had to face that full moon. He could not stand to disappoint.

His demons seemed to become more than a shadow; his demons had become him and though Remus tried to deny what was slowly eating him away. He put a hand to his head and raked his fingers through his hair, pursing his lips tightly. He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly and released his apprehension.

_"Mr. Lupin?" Mr. Ollivander said slowly and narrowed his eyes at the boy. "I cannot express how eager I am to work with you."_

_Remus looked at Mr. Ollivander with a steady gaze, terrfied and defensive at the same time._

_"Go on, Remus," Hope said gently, pushing him forward with a hand. "He won't hurt you."_

_Remus stepped up to him and bit his tongue, standing quietly. Mr. Ollivander came forth with a wand already in his hand, holding it out for him to take. Remus forced himself to relax even if his eyes were daring to melt into their amber glare._

_"Do not be afraid, Mr. Lupin," Mr. Ollivander said and encouraged him with a nod. "The wand always reveals what you feel."_

_Remus's face must have caught his attention for he held up a hand hastily._

_"No, you misunderstand me," the wandmaker said. "It's not a bad thing."_

_Remus suddenly wanted to fade away, wishing he was anywhere but in this stuffy shop with dust heavier than his fear. Of course he feared what everyone feared; he was nothing short of a monster. He feared himself._

_Remus looked at his mother and tried walking over to her, but found his feet glued to the spot._

_"Let me go," he demanded, turning to scowl at Mr. Ollivander, who merely shrugged as if he was innocent. "Oi!"_

_Without warning, Mr. Ollivander had put a hand on his shoulder. Remus instinctively reached for his sleeve to pull it down, but he felt himself falling even though he was sure his feet were stuck firmly on the ground._

Remus could remember how he had gotten his wand. He grunted disapprovingly at himself and shook his head, furiously wiping at his eyes as he tried desperately to dry them. He froze the moment he could hear the door open, revealing a groggy looking James Potter, who was rubbing his own eyes and yawning. The bespectacled boy took a moment to adjust to his new consciousness, before tilting his head.

"Remus?" James asked, surprised to see his friend up. "How long have you been awake?"

"Just woke up," Remus lied quickly. "It's almost time to get up anyway, so I got an early start."

The poor first year hoped his eyes were not red from all his tears and wiping. He squared his shoulders, trying to look more confident although something in the pit of his stomach made it hard for him to pull it off.

"Well," James said, stretching his arms out in front of him before bouncing over to Remus with a grin. "It's our first day of classes, mate! Something tells me it's going to be interesting."

"Not in the sense that I'm expecting," Remus said, already catching on to James's contagious smile. He nudged James in the arm as he passed him to head to the showers. "Try not to get into trouble today."

"No promises!"

By the time James had finished his shower, brushed his teeth, and put on his new Gryffindor robes for the very first time, Remus was still fiddling with his tie. He had been standing in front of the mirror for the past several minutes muttering under his breath in pure displeasure. His fingers were caught up in the multiple knots he was creating with that foresaken piece of fabric.

"Still having trouble?" James asked, clearly amused as he adjusted his own tie.

Remus seemed to have noticed the hinted amusement and rolled his eyes at his messy haired friend. His finger slipped and the knot he was fixing fell apart. He scowled down at it as if it had personally offended him.

"Glad my struggles amuse you," Remus said, his voice dripping with obvious sarcasm. "It's this last bit I can't get."

"Well, I'm glad your struggles amuse me, too. I was beginning to think I was the only one!" James said with a cheeky grin and helped Remus with his tie. "Hang on...wow, you really wrinkled this."

"Really?" Remus snorted, throwing James a look of slight agitation. But, after a quick experimental tug and it stayed in shape, he smiled. "Thanks, mate."

Sirius was admiring himself in the mirror while Peter was sitting on the edge of his bed tying his shoes. The moment Remus had left said mirror, Sirius had been admiring his reflection for the past six minutes and it was beginning to border the line of ridiculousness in James's opinion. The Black heir was now tidying up his hair, muttering to himself as he tried to change its appearance.

"I'm hungry," James insisted and glared at Sirius. "Hurry up."

"Patience," Sirius said, still not taking his eyes off himself in the mirror. "You simply cannot rush perfection."

They sat like this for an additional three minutes, waiting as Sirius rumpled it, then straightened it out, only to rumple it again. Remus could feel everyone's patience running thin...including his own.

"Okay," Remus said with a sigh, towing Sirius away. "You look fine. Stop admiring yourself so James can eat and we don't have to hear him complain."

Sirius laughed and followed James and Remus out of the dormitory, walking beside Peter, who was muttering about mornings and how they were decidedly the most beautiful torture method for non-morning people.

Breakfast, however, was not much easier. The entire Gryffindor table was eager to greet the new faces; Remus, who was not much of a crowd-person, shrunk under the numerous hands trying to grab him and force him to sit down next to them. He stuck close to James and Sirius. Although, unlike Remus, James and Sirius were happily endulging the crowd, eager for the attention. Peter, who seemed to be having fun, was quick to join in, too.

The only Gryffindor who was not eager to join the thronging crowd was none other than the fiery redhead, Lily Evans. She was frowning at her plate although Remus could not understand why. However, he had caught her glaring in their general direction more than once.

"What's wrong, Evans?" Sirius called out, trying to catch the eye of the pretty first year.

She did a good job of ignoring the Black heir as she pretended to engage in a conversation with one of her friends. Alice, who was the one she chose, chatted happily while Lily smirked. And for the entire time, James's eyes never once left the girl.

Remus wanted to tell Sirius not to start anything on their first day but he kept his mouth shut. But Sirius was not going to take Lily's silence for an answer; he wanted to get a rise out of her.

"Come on, Evans! We've got a free agent!" Sirius shouted, pointing at James, who wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Lily threw him an annoyed look and turned to her friend Alice Prewett to resume their conversation. The two of them pointedly turned their backs on them and tossed their raised their voices so they could be heard by said boys.

"I have an owl here," Alice said, making sure to keep her eyes solely on Lily. "Did you bring an owl?"

"A cat," Lily corrected although she was speaking through tightly gritted teeth. "His name is Zzyzx. I thought it was an interesting name! My mother suggested it the day we got him."

"Evans?" James called out.

Lily groaned audibly, making sure James could hear it from the other side of the table. James retaliated slightly, stung by the rudeness but he pressed on. He cleared his throat loud enough for her to hear across the table.

"Oi," James said. "Where are you headed to?"

However, his attempts had failed. James frowned slightly at Lily as she threw him a scornful look and Remus sent a sympathetic glance over at his friend.

"Oi, Evans!"

Lily continued to ignore the two boys who tried to get her attention.

"Can't you leave her alone?" came a new voice.

James whipped around and frowned deeply as he spotted a boy with Slytherin robes. Remus knitted his eyebrows in confusion, sensing there was something he was missing. The Slytherin boy stopped in front of James and curled his lip back.

"She doesn't want to talk to you," the boy said angrily.

"Who asked you?" James snapped back, quick to rise to his own feet.

A couple of the Gryffindor students voiced their own displeasure at the Slytherin's attitude. The support from behind seemed to have given James even more courage for he took a menacing step forward.

"Snivellus," Sirius sneered, and stood beside James. "Remember me?"

"Stop it!" Lily said although she was making a grab for the boy, evidently named Snivellus. "Severus, they're hardly worth a fight. They're just trying to egg you on!"

"It's working," the boy, now named Severus, growled.

Remus and Peter both looked at each other, lost but intrigued at the same time.

"Why are you over here, Slytherin?" one of the Gryffindors asked, narrowing her eyes. "You're meant to be over there with your own house."

"No," James said, silencing the much older student with a hand. Most would have taken this as a bold move, but James was focused only on Severus. "Listen here, Snape, I will spend the next seven years giving you grief. Mind your mouth, you slimeball."

"You're a swine, Potter," Snape said and curled his hands into fists.

"Sev," Lily said again, though this time much sterner. "Enough."

Snape snapped out of his glare and turned to face his friend with a much softer expression than Remus would have ever seen on the boy's surly, unhappy face. He spoke almost tenderly.

"Is he bothering you?"

"Of course not," Lily said, equally as gently. "He's not worth the altercation, Sev. Honest...you're only feeding into his overblown ego."

The Slytherin eventually left with the coaxing of Lily Evans; the drama and tension died away and James and Sirius sat back down. Now, the young werewolf was munching lazily on an apple while flipping through his book as if he was trying to memorize its text in the span of thirty minutes or less. Although, he was curious as to what the story was between his new friends, that Slytherin boy, and the Gryffindor girl.

Professor McGonagall, the strict witch they had met just outside those doors, was walking about the Great Hall, handing out student's schedules whilst calling out their names (obviously in hopes of making this transaction quicker). Remus watched her for a few moments then went back to reading his book. When she came over to them, Remus set the book down and listened intently.

"Prewett—"

"Here!" Fabian and Gideon said together.

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes and handed Fabian his schedule and Gideon his. However, the twins wanted to show off to the new first years and what's a better way to impress them by annoying Professor McGonagall.

"Professor!" Gideon said, shooting his hand up in the air. "Professor, you gave me Fabian's schedule."

"This is like Mum all over again!" Fabian said with a troubled and very staged sigh. "Sending us the wrong letters. It's our fifth year and you still can't tell us apart! Honestly, we should do something about that."

"I reckon one of us shaves our head," Gideon said with a dramatic sigh. "The other will grow a wicked beard that would make Dumbledore jealous!"

"Speak respectfully when talking about Hogwarts staff," Professor McGonagall chided sharply, narrowing her eyes. "While I do apologize for the mistake, your cheek will cost you house points on the very first day!"

The twins shook their heads sadly, although it was very staged.

"It's a pity but they are identical so it wouldn't have mattered anyway!" Gideon chirped, earning a very Professor McGonagall-ish glare.

"And you actually can tell us apart," Fabian chimed in. "Better than Mum though. We weren't lying about that bit."

"You two," Professor McGonagall said angrily. "I do not have time for your antics! Stop corrupting the first years!"

Remus rolled his eyes fondly at the twins, who were getting a rumbling laugh from their crowd. They were both waving like kings would wave to their people. James and Sirius exchanged looks as if they were sharing the same thought.

Remus bit his lip, not wanting to ask what those two had in mind and conniving. They were wearing identical grins, which could honestly mean only bad things. _Why was he friends with them?_ Oh, yes. He was going to live with them for the next seven years of his life. His new friends did an excellent job reminding him.

"It is now time to proceed to your classes!"

Those words seriously could not have come sooner. Without further ado, Remus was the first to rise from the table, collecting his things in a flurry and raced out of the Great Hall before the mob could hold him back.

"Oi, what are you running from?" James huffed, racing to catch up.

Sirius and Peter were also jogging to catch up with the werewolf, their book bags swinging wildly on their shoulders, probably hitting everyone they passed.

"Nothing," Remus said casually. "I just want to get to class."

"Mate, in a few weeks, that eager attitude will wear off," Sirius snorted and patted Remus on the back with a smirk.

"Yes and all thanks to you," Remus said, returning the sarcastic pat. With that, he zipped down a different hall, letting himself blend into the crowd as he took a different route to the dungeons.

The three of them, excluding Remus, made their way to the Dungeons for their first lesson, which was Potions. Remus was already standing in the back, waiting for instructions like the rest of the class.

"I am Professor Thoran," the man said, pacing back and forth. "I am filling in for Professor Slughorn, who has temporarily taken a well-earned and deserved break. He will, no doubt, be coming back. Some of you may recognize him as the Head of the Slytherin House."

He caught sight of every Gryffindor face looking back at him.

"Now, you musn't think poorly of Professor Slughorn. He truly is a good mentor."

"Slytherin," Sirius snorted.

Again, Remus knew why Sirius disliked Slytherin so much. It was the mere reflection of his family and if he had become a Slytherin, it meant it was not he, who would finally be the one to stand against his family. It was an important role to Sirius for he truly believed it would be who put an end to the Black family discrimination.

"Today," Professor Hayes said and started pacing the Dungeons. "We will review the twelve uses for dragon blood, aconite, and bezoars and their affects they have in in potions."

He spread his arms out wide and the chairs slid back, allowing students room to sit down.

"Why don't you take your pick?"

To no one's surprise, the four new friends sat together, four at a table. Professor Hayes was back at the front, writing down their topic for the lesson. Remus already knew the answers but he took out his parchment to write notes in with his quill and ink. Surprisingly, the class continued to drag on until James nudged Remus.

"What?" Remus whispered.

"Take this," James whispered back.

James looked around and tossed him a blank piece of parchment before his quill starting scratching away on it. Remus just stared at it, unimpressed, until words started forming.

-Oi, does this work for everyone? -J

-Whoa! What is this? -S

-How _does_ this work? -R

Remus _was_ fascinated at the peculiar piece if parchment and how it worked, despite its distracting ways that kept him from focusing on his class notes. On the contrary, to his reluctance, Remus pushed away his notes.

-My dad enchanted this parchment for me. He didn't make it for this purpose—this was all my thinking -J

-You are a genius, do you hear? -S

-Now, we could pass notes. I have a few extra too.

-What about this bright light? -R

-The glowing can only be seen by us four. -J

-This is crazy! -P

-I know! It's great though. -J

-Why isn't Remus saying anything, anymore? -S

-Check what he is doing, Peter. -J

Peter looked over at Remus and shook his head with a slight smile. He nudged Remus but only received a glare in response. Peter mouthed "sorry" and threw his hands up in the air before turning back to his own parchment, bending over, and hastily scribbling his response.

-He's taking notes. -P

-He's choosing notes over us? -J

-Yes. -R

-HOW NICE OF YOU TO JOIN THE CONVERSATION! -S

-It's hard to ignore a glowing parchment. -R

-Why are you taking notes? -J

-Yeah, this is so easy to understand. -S

-Not really. . . -P

-Yes it is. -J

-So what if this is easy? It's good to pay attention and listen. -R

The class was dismissed without any homework (leaving the students in a fairly good mood already). The four friends hung back and waited for the classroom to clear out before they walked out. However, James insisted on staying because Lily Evans was lingering back as well. James was convinced they were a match made in Heaven.

"Oi, James," Sirius said, looking down at his schedule. "Didn't you tell me before that your favorite class is Transfiguration?"

"Yeah," James said.

"It's next."

Transfiguration was something that always sparked James's interest and Professor McGonagall launched right into their lesson, giving a very brief introduction. She must have recognized the four boys for she may have turned the slightest shade of green.

"This is a very practical class," Professor McGonagall continued to say. "Stay up to date and you will do well."

For a demonstration, she waved her wand and transfigured a match into a needle. The students leaned forward in amazement and some even "oooed" and "ahhhed" as if they weren't witches and wizards.

With another flick of Professor McGonagall's wand, she separated matches from a box to each student. They were to turn a match into a needle.

"It's not unusual if you don't get it the first day but I expect it to be done by this week."

"What kind of wand do you have?" Sirius asked, noticing Remus's wand.

Remus studied his brown wand.

"Eleven inches, cypress and unicorn, why? I don't believe the intention of making this wand was for Transfiguration—it would have looked like James's wand."

"Unicorn?" Peter echoed.

"It's not bad luck, no blood was spilled," Remus sighed.

Unicorn blood brought a thousand years of bad luck, but it was meant to bring people back to life even if they were an inch from death. Remus had read this in a book. Peter did not object but merely continued to work on his spell.

Remus, James, and Sirius, and two Ravenclaw first years were the only ones who managed to turn their matches into needles by the middle of the class. Awarding points to the two houses, Professor McGonagall looked most fondly at her Gryffindor students.

"Turns out you two are pretty good," Remus joked with a pronounced smirk.

"And that's a surprise?" James asked with a grin, and then added with an air of laughter. "It is like you said, my wand was built for Transfiguration."

"Help me," Peter moaned from Remus's left.

Remus observed Peter's performance and corrected him on a few things. By the end of the class, he managed to give his match a pointy end.

"Good job, Peter," Remus praised, noticing Peter's dejected look.

By the end of class, Professor McGonagall had watched all of her students, taking further and additional notes. She was that kind of stern and strict professor who taught a very important subject and took it very seriously. However, she dismissed her class and wished them all a good first day to the first years.

"Where to next?" Sirius asked the class was out in the bustling corridors (their only homework was to perfect the spell).

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," James muttered, then brightened. "But lunch is after that!"

The four boys hurried off to their next class, which was on the second floor. Professor Hilret, who was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, seemed very tense with this class for he brusquely introduced himself and started straight away at the lesson he was teaching. What seemed even more bizarre was how he glared at Remus. Was it possible he knew?

"You're holding your wand incorrectly, child," Professor Naut said haughtily at Remus, who was trying to work on his sparks spell. "Your gripping your handle far too loosely, you'll loose hold of your wand!"

"Sorry, professor," Remus murmured and tried fixing his mistake, but Professor Naut grabbed it out of his hands. "Students, please. Look over here if you will. The red sparks incantation is not a particularly difficult one although it can be helpful. Allow me to demonstrate on this wand."

Professor Naut raised Remus's wand and cleared his throat.

" _Periculum."_

On command, the wand shot out a few red sparks that exploded like fireworks. The students "ooed" and "ahhed" again at the display and eagerly started whispering amongst themselves. Professor Naut, pleased with himself, handed Remus his wand back.

"Try again."

Remus, now a delightful shade of red, bowed his head and lost the little confidence he had. James and Sirius were quick to perform the spell (maybe not perfectly), but Remus could only produce a light albeit pathetic stream of red sparks that fluttered uselessly to the ground. He feared his professors reaction, trying to hide in the crowd and remain unseen.

James, who was watching his friend, frowned.

"You've got this," he said encouragingly. "Don't let the prat get you down."

"You can't say that about the professors," Remus said sternly though there was little fire in his voice. "Didn't you hear Professor McGonagall yell at the twins for saying something like that about Professor Dumbledore?"

"Calm down," Sirius said from Remus's right. "No one's here to hear us now."

"Why _is_ Professor Naut acting like such a git towards you?" James asked, catching the attention of Peter, who was still struggling.

"These spells will help you become some of the best witches and wizards," Professor Naut said, cutting Remus off before he could speak. "By the end of this term, you'll be able to hunt down every Dark Creature that comes your way!"

Remus looked dejected as he stowed his wand away, choosing to take a break.

"I'll talk to you lot later..."


End file.
